Private Screening by Richard North Patterson Read Free Book Online

gesture Lord had seen him make. “In that case,” Cole answered, “I’ll let you.”
    â€œTony?” It was the bailiff. “Judge McIlvaine wants you in chambers.”
    â€œIs Danziger there?”
    When the bailiff nodded, Lord turned to Cole. “Sorry, Jack. Think you can bring back a sandwich?”
    â€œNothing wrong, is there?”
    â€œDoubt it—Danziger probably wants a recess to reassemble Parnell.” Lord gave Cole some money, and went to the judge’s door.
    McIlvaine and Danziger looked up as if interrupted; Danziger’s three acolytes had retreated to his limousine, the better, Lord assumed, to bill Parnell in comfort. “Come in, Tony,” the judge boomed.
    Noting Danziger’s proprietary elbows on McIlvaine’s desk, Lord sat so that the older man could speak to him only by turning from the judge. McIlvaine leaned forward. “John’s requested a recess till Monday morning. I’m listening to any objections.”
    Lord feigned surprise. “On what grounds, John?”
    Danziger had a heavy way of sitting which suggested that he ennobled a chair by settling his bottom into it, and to turn at all clearly annoyed him. “Mr. Parnell wishes to consider settlement.”
    â€œNo point in that—unless he throws in my client’s back pay. In addition to his job, of course.”
    Red mottling appeared on Danziger’s face. Quickly, McIlvaine put in, “I’m sure John will convey your terms to Mr. Parnell,” and looked to Danziger for approval.
    â€œAs an attorney”—Danziger spoke the word as if describing a separate race—“it’s my ethical obligation to report any and all demands to my client.”
    â€œIn that case,” Lord said agreeably, “take all the time you need.”
    â€œThank you,” Danziger said to the judge. He rose from the chair in stages, nodded in Lord’s proximate direction, and left.
    McIlvaine motioned Lord to stay. “I don’t think John cares for you,” he said approvingly.
    Lord looked grave. “You’re a sensitive observer of human nature, Your Honor. I hope it’s just that I’m kicking his ass.”
    McIlvaine raised one eyebrow, and then screwed his mouth into a bark of laughter. Lord thought it remarkable that any one man could look pious, cynical, good-humored, and corrupt all at once, when in fact he was only the last. Each part of McIlvaine’s politician’s face seemed dedicated to a separate function: the raised eyebrows signaling worldliness; the eyes wide with an acolyte’s sincerity; the nose a red beacon of sociability; and a rubbery mouth that could stretch to cover all the emotional territory in between. When the mouth finished laughing, its owner said, “It can make cases harder to settle.”
    â€œHarder than losing?”
    â€œNo matter,” McIlvaine said amiably. “But I do have a modest suggestion which may smooth the way to settlement, particularly where your client’s future plans seem to rest on securing back pay.”
    Lord sensed that he would not like what was coming. “I can always use advice.”
    â€œFine. Now, you embarrassed Colby Parnell this morning.” McIlvaine raised a mollifying hand. “Perhaps unavoidably. But some gesture of respect between gentlemen …”
    â€œA trial is mental combat, Your Honor. It’s hard to strike too many grace notes.”
    â€œThere are other places.” McIlvaine cleared his throat. “Mrs. Parnell is hosting a party this evening.”
    Something, Lord knew, made this incredible suggestion in McIlvaine’s interest. “A party?”
    â€œYes. For Senator Kilcannon.”
    All at once, Lord saw where this was heading. “A fund-raiser,” he said in his flattest tone.
    McIlvaine nodded. “She’s quite an admirer of his, as are many of my classmates from USF.…”
    You